


Great Expectations II

by SharkGirl



Series: The NEXT Generation of Miracles [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Family, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Sequel, Vignette, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses into the lives of the children of the Generation of Miracles.<br/>Vignettes and Drabbles.<br/>Sequel to Great Expectations.<br/>ON INDEFINITE HAITUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First-String - KyouRogi

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, you all knew this was coming! And don't you love my totally creative title?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfft, KyouRogi.
> 
> That's just a shorter way to write AkaFuri and MidoTaka (even though they don't really appear in this chapter)

“It looks like we have quite a turnout again this year, Coach Nijimura,” the advisor said, eyeing the group of young boys standing in the main gym.

“Indeed,” the other man replied.  “Of course, with our reputation, it’s no surprise.”

“We do create miracles here.” A third man walked up.  He was a recent transfer and the basketball team’s second advisor.

“We don’t create them,” Nijimura corrected. “We cultivate them. Thankfully, more humanely than we used to.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He gazed across the crowd.  “See anyone with potential yet?”

“I’ll have to wait and see how they do during the practice games, but these kids look promising.”

“There certainly are a lot of them.” The first advisor said, still amazed.

“I fear we may need to add a fourth string.” Nijimura shook his head. “Let’s call the first-string captain over and get started.”  He turned and cupped a hand to his mouth.  “Akashi!”

A boy of average height with auburn hair turned from where he was speaking with one of the first years.  He apologized to the other student for leaving before jogging over.

“Yes, Coach?” The boy asked.

“Akashi?” The new advisor raised an eyebrow.  “As in the captain of the Generation of Miracles?”

“Well, that would be my dad.” The boy turned to him, amber eyes slipping closed as he smiled.  “Akashi Kyou.” He opened his eyes and held his hand out.

“Nice to meet you,” the man shook his hand.

“This is Shirokuro-sensei,” Nijimura introduced him.  “He’ll be advising our club along with Kougei-sensei.” Then he turned back to Kyou. “Could you call numbers one through thirty forward and take them to the west gym?”

“Yes, Sir!” Kyou nodded and ran off to complete his task.

“Is he really the ex-captain’s son?” Shirokuro asked, his brows raised. “It’s no wonder he’s the captain now.”

“Akashi-kun earned his position,” Nijimura said, watching as the auburn-haired boy gathered the first group and led them out.  “Though, it makes sense.” He smiled. “He is the son of two strong captains, after all.”

*~*

“Okay,” Kyou said once he got his group to the gym.  “We’re going to split you up into six teams,” he explained.  “Then we’ll have a series of practice games. The coaches from the first, second, and third string with observe you and decide on your positions from there.” He scanned the crowd, noting their eager faces. It was refreshing.  “Any questions?”

A boy in the second row raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“Is your dad really Akashi Seijuurou?”

Of course.  This is what he got for going to Teiko.  But he was used to it.  And he supposed his dad and uncles were so famous, he would be asked that no matter which school he attended.

“Has been for over ten years,” he answered.  He knew that would confuse them.  He was fifteen and, even though he’d never hidden the fact that he was adopted, it wasn’t like he broadcasted it.  “Are there any questions related to try-outs?”

A boy toward the back raised his hand.

“Yes? You back there.”

“How many are going to be accepted onto the first-string?”

“Ah, that’s a good question.” Kyou smiled.  “Although most trying out will be slotted into the second or third-string simply based on seniority, we _are_ looking for exceptional players with the talent, drive and determination worthy of representing our school in official games.”

“And.” Another boy held his hand up meekly. “How many is that?”

“Now, if the captain told you that, it might affect how you perform today.” Nijimura stepped into the gym, flanked by the two coaches for the second string and the four for the third.  “Now, if you’re all done badgering Akashi-kun, shall we begin?”

Kyou stood beside Nijimura as they watched the practice games.  The court could hold two at a time, so they shifted their gazes between the game on their left and the other on their right.  Both had excellent players, but one stood out more than the rest.

“You see that?” Nijimura asked, pointing at the left court with his chin.

“Number seven?” Kyou asked, watching as the player passed to a teammate halfway down the court. And behind him.  “He’s good.”

“Very good.” The coach mused.  “A little strange-looking.” He noted the far too big thick, plastic-framed glasses and the beanie he wore on his head.  “But is he _exceptional_?”

They watched as number seven picked up a rebound, dribbling across the court. He nearly made it to the midcourt line, but a player from the other team was on him.  He glanced side to side and saw that there were no openings to pass.

“Hm,” Nijimura rubbed his chin.  “How’s he going to get out of this one?”

“I’m not-” but Kyou fell silent, watching as number seven looked across the court, put a slight bend in his knees, and took his shoot.  The other players stopped and watched as the ball arched over them and went through the hoop with a resounding swoosh.  Kyou blinked and then turned to the coach.  “Does that answer your question?”

“Both of them,” Nijimura replied.  He held his hands up and one of the other coaches blew their whistle. The players on each court huddled up and then joined the rest in the center of the gym where Nijimura and Kyou stood.

“Excellent work,” a second-string coach said.  “We’ll be announcing the placements once we’ve seen the remaining games. Please follow me back to the main gym.”

Kyou watched as they all left, his eyes lingering on number seven's back. Funky glasses and poor fashion sense aside, there was something familiar about him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The other games seemed to go by in a blur.  The players were good, but no one stood out like number seven had.  His amazing passes and that shot.  Kyou kept thinking about it.  How familiar all of it looked.

“Thank you all for coming out today.” Nijimura stood before them back in the main gym.  “We will start by announcing those of you who made the third string.”

Kyou was absently listening to the names, amber eyes searching the crowd for their most promising newcomer.  He spotted him toward the end of the first row, his hands behind his back as he stood at parade rest, a determined look on his face.  The glasses took up half of it, but that face looked familiar, too.  The small, slightly upturned nose and the soft curve of his cheek.  Kyou blushed. He didn’t need to be staring at a first year like that.

Still.

“Congratulations!” One of the four third-string coaches clapped his hands.  “We’ll be heading to the south gym shortly.”

“Now,” Nijimura spoke again. “Before we announce the second-string players, I would like to extend an invitation to the first-string.”

Kyou could almost feel all the air leave the room as the boys sucked it in. No one thought any of them would be accepted onto the first-string.  Of course, there were a few cocky players who probably thought so before Nijimura corrected their form on the court.  But Teiko hadn’t accepted a first year onto their competing team since the Miracles.

“Please step forward,” the head coach looked down at his roster, “Number seven, Takama Giro.”

Kyou blinked.  That was a strange name.  

“Welcome to the first string, Takama-kun.” Nijimura smiled at him.

When Giro stepped out of the line and walked toward the front, Kyou knew something was off about him.  He was smiling too wide and almost sauntering as he approached them.

“Thank you very much,” he said, voice higher than Kyou imagined it would be. “It just goes to show that, if you try your hardest and have fun, you can do anything.”

“Well said.” Nijimura assessed him, raising an eyebrow.  “Now, please stand beside-”

“And today _was_ fun," Giro continued.  "Like my father always says,” he side-eyed them. “People who enjoy life are winners.”

That’s when Kyou put it together.  Takama.  Taka. Ma.  Takao.  Midorima.

Giro stepped forward and removed his glasses and beanie, _her_ long, black hair falling down her back as she shook it out.

“Korogi,” he said and she turned toward him, smiling wide.

“Hey, Kyou-chan.”  Then she faced the others.  “I’ll happily accept my new position as the first girl on Teiko’s illustrious basketball team.”  She stopped, blinking in surprise when Nijimura stepped beside her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“We will make the official announcement of the second-string members now,” he said.  Then he leaned forward so only Korogi could hear.  “Please come with me, _Takama-kun_.”

Nijimura didn't speak as he and Kyou escorted Korogi into the west gym. Kyou figured it was because he was trying to phrase what he wanted to say in the nicest, but firmest way possible.

Although their coach had only recently settled back in Japan permanently, he was still like an uncle to them and he was probably surprised at his own inability to recognize Midorima and Takao’s daughter.  

Kyou was surprised at himself, as well.  He'd known her for over a decade.

He glanced back and saw a smile on Korogi’s lips, her chocolate brown eyes shining with pride.  She’d outplayed everyone back there and made the first string.  She had a lot to be proud of.

“Korogi,” he began, when they stepped into the gym.  There were still basketballs, towels and water bottles on the floor.  Obviously, the managers hadn’t been in to clean up yet.

“Ah, so you _do_ recognize me.” She grinned.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Nijimura asked.

“Um, making it onto the first-string?” Korogi replied, blinking up at him.

“No.” Their coach sighed. “Takama Giro made it onto the first-string.”

“But I’m-”

“I know you’re an exceptionally good player and you have a lot of promise, but this is a _boys’_ team, Korogi.”

“I know that,” she said.  “Hence my disguise.” But then she giggled.  “Though, it seemed like fate that my lucky item was a knit hat today, huh?”

“Korogi.”

“What’s the problem?” She frowned.

“The problem is a girl can’t join the boys’ basketball team.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh?” She asked and Kyou felt her eyes on him.  “So, the best player doesn’t get to join because she’s a girl?”

“Precisely.”

“And how is that fair?” She drew her brows down. “I can outplay any of them.”

“Korogi,” Kyou finally spoke and he took her by surprise.  “We know you can.”

“Then I don’t understand.” She recovered and faced Nijimura again.

“The principal would never let me put you on the team.” He sighed. “You’d need to join a girls’ team.”

“But there _isn’t_ a girls’ team for basketball,” Korogi clenched her fists at her sides.  “This was my only chance to pla-”

“Then perhaps you should form one.” Nijimura walked past her and motioned for Kyou to join him.  “We have to welcome our new team members, Akashi-kun.”

Kyou followed after him, amber eyes glancing back at Korogi.  Her face looked both angry and sad.  He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what.

“Fine," she said. “But it’s your loss."

Korogi walked over and picked up one of the stray balls. “I’m going to form the best team this school has ever seen and we’re going to beat the first-string.” She walked past them toward the exit.  “And you’ll regret not letting me join.”  With that, she made her shot, from clear across the gym, the ball easily swooshing through the net on the far court.  Then she spun on her heel and walked out.

Nijimura and Kyou blinked as they watched her go.

“That’s going to come back and bite me, isn’t it?” the coach asked.

Kyou thought about it.  About how willful his childhood friend was and just how determined she could be.

“Yeah. Probably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? More of this? Jump to the other kids?  
> I plan on jumping around a lot timeline-wise as well. (I want to write them in high school!)  
> I'm open to requests, but I do have a few ideas for what I plan on doing.
> 
> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr~  
> http://jubesy.tumblr.com/
> 
> Character Profiles for this chapter:
> 
>  **Akashi Kyou**  
>  Son of Akashi Seijuurou and Furihata Kouki (adopted)  
> 15 years old  
> 3rd year at Teiko Middle School  
> 176 cm (approx 5'9")  
> Auburn hair, amber eyes  
> Captain of the Teiko Basketball Team
> 
>  **Midorima Korogi**  
>  Daughter of Midorima Shintarou and Takao Kazunari (adopted)  
> 13 years old  
> 1st year at Teiko Middle School  
> 167 cm (approx 5'5.5")  
> Black hair, brown eyes  
> Founder of the Teiko Girls' Basketball Club


	2. I Wanna Transfer! - AoKise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time jump! This takes place three years after that last chapter.
> 
> Just a reminder, AoKise and co. live in New York.

“Ryoooutaaaa…”

Kise’s eye twitched.

“Yes, Daiki?”

“Is lunch ready yet?”

Again, the blond’s lower eyelid spasmed.  Sixteen years of marriage and his husband still occasionally acted like the lazy child who’d hit him in the back of the head with a basketball in middle school.

“It would be done a lot sooner if you’d help me.” Kise rolled his eyes and resumed slicing the tomatoes for their sandwiches.  It wasn’t a complicated meal, but he was making extra for their kids’ lunches the following day.

“I’m hungry.” Aomine’s voice was suddenly much closer.  Kise didn’t bother to turn around.  He’d just get angry.  “What are we eating?”  The blond felt hands rest on his hips and warm breath fan over the back of his neck.

“Turkey sandwiches,” Kise replied, keeping the waver out of his voice as a shiver ran up his spine.  Sixteen years and he still felt little jolts of electricity when his husband touched him.

“Mmm…” Aomine lowered his head and brushed his lips against Kise’s pale neck.  “But, now that I’ve seen my options, there’s something else I want to eat for lunch.”

“Daiki…” Kise warned, ignoring the heat that pooled in his stomach.  “It’s the middle of the day.”

“So?” His husband asked, wrapping his hands around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder, watching as the blond’s nimble fingers distributed the tomato slices evenly.  “Tetsuya has practice and Eri has her audition today, right?”

“Well, yes.” Kise hummed as Aomine resumed kissing up his neck. “I was going to meet her there.”

“Like she wants her famous model of a father showing up.” The tan man chuckled against his skin.  “You know how she feels about nepotism.”

“Who taught you that word?” The blond glanced over his shoulder.

“You.”

“And you were listening?”

“Hey,” Aomine looked affronted. “I pay attention from time to time.”

“Mhm,” Kise fixed him with a look.  “Anyway, I’m almost done with lunch.”

“You know, they always gave us lunch right at noon during practice.” The taller man teased, failing to hide a grin.

“Oh, is that so?” Kise finished the sandwiches and began putting the extras into plastic bags.  “Then maybe you should come out of retirement and eat with all those younger, single, younger men.”

“You said ‘younger’ twice.” Aomine drew his brows down.

“Sure did.”  The blond winked at him and put the sandwiches into the fridge.  “Now, do you want to eat or what?” He put his hands on his hips.  “Old man.”

Aomine glared at him, but then smiled.  Before Kise had a chance to escape, Aomine grabbed him around the middle and hiked him over his shoulder, carrying him kicking and screaming into the family room.

“Oomph!” Kise let his breath out in a whoosh as he was unceremoniously dropped onto the couch. “Aominecchi,” he reverted to his husband’s old nickname, “What are you doing?”

“Eating.” Aomine pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

“Oh?”

“I know we’re not supposed to eat in here.” He got onto the couch, caging Kise with his body, a smirk on his lips.  “I’ll try not to make a mess.”

*~*

Aomine Tetsuya was almost sixteen and had just started his sophomore year of high school.  He was supposed to be going to practice for his basketball team, but he heard some rather interesting information from a fellow Japanese classmate and he needed to get home and tell his dads right away, while he still had time to transfer.

He made it to their condo in record time.  He climbed the steps and pulled out his key, unlocking the door.

“Dad, I’m home,” he called as he stepped inside, setting his key on the table.  “Dad?”

Normally, his father would greet him at the door, golden eyes assessing his form.  Then he’d hug him and immediately try to fix Tetsuya’s hair – his pink locks always going in one direction or another, but never the same way.  He quickly looked in the mirror and fixed his bangs before his dad had a chance.

“Dad?” He left the foyer, searching for the blond.  He was pretty sure his dad didn’t have a photo shoot today.  Oh, but he’d forgotten that his other father was home now, too, having retired from professional basketball after almost twenty years.  “Pop?” He tried calling for Aomine.

He heard something coming from the family room, so he walked over.

“Is anyone home?”

*~*

“Mmm…Daiki…” Kise purred as his husband sucked on his neck.  “It’s been so long…”

Then he heard a familiar voice.

“Is anyone home?”

“Tetsuya!” Kise gasped and knocked his husband off of him.  Aomine fell to the floor with a thud.  “Hi, Honey!”  The blond popped his head up over the back of the couch.  “You’re home early.”

“Sorry, were you taking a nap?” Tetsuya asked, dark blue eyes blinking in confusion.  Kise never napped.  Aomine, on the other hand…

“Oh, just, uh,” he grunted as he maneuvered himself, placing his feet on the ground and avoiding Aomine’s fallen form, “reading a magazine.”  He stood up then, his shirt wrinkled and a button off.  “How was school?”

“Fine.” Tetsuya raised an eyebrow.  “Have you seen Pop? I want to ask you guys something.”

“Yeah, he’s…around here somewhere,” the blond offered.

“Okay…well, I’m going to go put my bag in my room,” Tetsuya walked over to the stairs.  “I’ll be right back.”

With that, the nearly-sixteen-year-old walked out of the room.

“That was a close one,” Aomine said as he sat up, peering around the couch to follow their son’s retreating form.  “Think we have time before he comes back?”

Kise smacked him on the head.

*~*

Tetsuya had it all planned out, ever since his classmate had told him about the Next Generation of Miracles.  Apparently, there were some players who the media thought was on his dads’ and uncles’ levels.  Well, he had to see that for himself.

And, if they were as good as he’d heard, they might actually pose a challenge.  He was tired of winning so easily all the time.  He wanted something else.  Something interesting.

He walked back downstairs and found both his dads sitting at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches.  There was a third plate set out for him, in case he wanted to grab his own sandwich, but he ignored the rumbling in his stomach, choosing instead to focus on the speech he’d rehearsed on the walk home.

“Dad, Pop,” he caught their attention.  “I want to move to Japan.”

Aomine choked on his food and pounded his chest with his fist as he tried to breathe.  Kise set his sandwich down and laced his fingers, looking up at his son.

“And how did this come about?”

“I heard there were some really good players over there,” Tetsuya said coolly. “I want to see how good they are.”

“Wanting to satisfy your curiosity isn’t exactly the best reason to uproot your entire life.” Kise frowned.  “What about school? Your team?”

“If I get all the paperwork filled out, my credits should transfer and I’ll start as a first year in the spring.”

“You’ve done your homework.” Kise looked surprised.

“It’s the Satsuki in him,” Aomine said, finally having dislodged the piece of bread from his windpipe.  “Tetsuya.” He looked up at the teenager.  “You really think they’re worth it?”

“The magazines are calling them The Next Generation of Miracles.”

Kise and Aomine blinked and then looked at each other.

“Well, I’ll start packing.” Aomine stood up and walked toward the master bedroom.

“Daiki!” Kise called after him.  “What are you doing?”

“Well, I can’t let him move alone.”

“You mean it?” Tetsuya’s eyes lit up.  “Seriously?”

“Like I’d let some punks call themselves Miracles,” Aomine scoffed.  “Ryouta, where’s my suitcase?”

“Daiki, you can’t just move our son seven thousand miles away because some magazine hurt your pride.”

“And you should hear about the one who copies everyone’s moves,” Tetsuya added, sitting down and taking the uneaten half of his father’s sandwich.  “They said his perfect copy is better than the original.”

Kise stood up and pushed his chair back.

“Your suitcase is in the closet next to mine,” the blond told his husband.  “Get them both down, will you?”

Well, that was easier than Tetsuya had thought.

“Ah, but we can’t just leave.” Kise walked back to the table, chewing his lower lip.

“Why not?” His son asked. “Your work involves a lot of travelling anyway and Pop’s retired.”

“But what about your sister?”

“Eri’s been wanting to go to Tokyo since kindergarten.”

“Really?” Kise asked.

“Probably,” Tetsuya shrugged his shoulders.  “I mean, you guys don’t _have_ to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“Oh?” The blond raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And just where do you plan to live without your parents?”

“Like hell we’re paying for your apartment!” Aomine called from the downstairs bedroom, obviously still packing.

“I figured I could stay with Aunt Satsuki,” Tetsuya offered, taking a bite of the sandwich.

“I don’t think Momochi wants another teenager in her house.” Kise sat back down and took his half a sandwich back.  “Eat your father’s.” He pointed to Aomine’s plate.  “She’s got her hands full with Yoroko and the triplets.”

“I could help her take care of them.”

“Ha!” Aomine poked his head out of their bedroom door.  “Like you took care of that rabbit you had to have?”

“I left the cage open one time and that was three years ago, Pop!” Tetsuya frowned at him.

“Really, Daiki…” Kise shook his head.

“He didn’t chew holes in _your_ favorite jerseys,” Aomine said and then went back to packing.

Tetsuya had only been watching their class pet for the break. But after the loss of his father’s signed Allen Iverson jersey, he’d never been allowed to bring another animal into the house.  Even though he’d taken great care of the rabbit otherwise.

“Listen, I know you mean well, but a week with a rabbit and three years living with three rambunctious grade-schoolers are two very different things, Honey.” Kise put a hand on his shoulder.  “But,” he said, causing Tetsuya to look up at him.  “If you want to move, we can talk more about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He smiled.  “But, let’s wait until your sister comes home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Tetsuya #3? He's a lot like Momoi - smart and kinda sneaky - but he's competitive like Aomine. He gets some things from Kise, like his excitable nature, but I didn't get to show much of that here.
> 
>  **Aomine Tetsuya**  
>  Son of Aomine Daiki and Kise Ryouta (Momoi surrogate - Aomine biological father)  
> 15.5 years old  
> Sophomore at ??? High School  
> 190.5 cm (approx 6'3")  
> Light pink hair, blue eyes  
> Ace of his High School Basketball Team  
> He used to call Kise and Aomine, "Daddy and Poppa," but now it's shortened to "Dad and Pop." They're still kind of sad about that.
> 
>  **Aomine Eri**  
>  Daughter of Aomine Daiki and Kise Ryouta (??? surrogate - Kise biological father)  
> 13 years old  
> 7th Grade - ??? Junior High  
> 157 cm (approx 5'2")  
> Blond hair, golden eyes  
> Aspiring model and actress with a secret - we don't know much about her


End file.
